


Not Bad

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [99]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Eliot gets injured, Food, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Multi, care taking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7693942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot doesn't quite understand the fussing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Bad

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece from Tumblr.
> 
> Warnings: Eliot is, as usual, injured. Parker and Hardison are doing their best to care for him.

“I’m fine.”

“You had your lung punctured yesterday. Sit yo ass down.”

“That was yesterday,” Eliot grumbles. No one seems to be giving in on this one.

Which he supposes is justified enough. He has a concussion, a punctured lung, two broken ribs and eighteen stitches. There’s a certain amount of numbers even he can’t take in a fight, although God knows he always tries.

Parker and Hardison seem to be unhappy with the always trying thing, particularly if this is the result. Hardison has him practically pinned to the couch–he’d tried the bed but Eliot had started growling and snapping about that one around breakfast time, and Hardison had conceded to the couch for the day. He keeps bringing over pillows and fluffing the damn things, piling blankets onto Eliot and asking him if he wants anymore pain killers.

Meanwhile, breakfast had actually come from Parker. The cereal had been actually served in milk, and it had been a brand he could tolerate. She saved the sugary mess for herself and Hardison, but she dug up cereal for Eliot that didn’t give him a cavity.

Lunch had been leftovers, but now the kitchen is seemingly out of easily preparable food and Parker seems determined to actually cook.

“You have the recipe written down,” she rolls her eyes. “How hard can it be to read it? If I can steal the Hope Diamond, I can make spaghetti.”

The recipe she has isn’t strictly spaghetti. It’s not boiling water and throwing in some pasta. It’s also his personal favorite tomato sauce. Easy for him, sure, but it’s a lot of little steps, and if someone isn’t familiar with the kitchen…

Eliot resigns himself to tossing away the pot when the burnt sauce won’t separate from it.

Parker bangs around in the kitchen and Eliot can’t see what’s going on in his beloved space, stuck lying down as he is.

“Need some water?” Hardison checks. “Or I can get'cha a book, man. Whatever. Anythin’.”

Eliot’s first instinct is to snap, but he knows Hardison loves him, does this because he cares. He takes a deep breath. “I’m good, man,” he promises.

Thirty minutes later, Parker shows up with three big bowls, and Hardison helps Eliot sit up. With some trepidation, Eliot digs in.

“This is…not bad,” he admits. It’s not perfect, but it’s definitely edible.

Parker grins, seemingly satisfied.

Hardison is still fidgeting, though. “Hey, man,” Eliot says. “Can I have a water?”

Hardison beams. “Sure, man,” he says, then practically runs off to get it. Eliot can’t help but smile.

His people like taking care of them. It’s taking some getting used to–a lot of getting used to, if he’s honest–but it’s easier when he realizes he can take care of them right back, just by being receptive to it. Just by letting them.


End file.
